A Tiny Land Deal with Giant Implications
A recent public lands bill has critics once again wondering: what exactly is Utah Senator Mike Lee up to?
This week, the Senate Committee on Energy and Natural Resources scheduled 15 bills for markup, the final stage for making amendments before voting on advancing a bill to the full Senate. Included in that slate is a modest sounding proposal introduced last May called the Brian Head Town Land Conveyance Act.
The bill, introduced by Utah Senators Mike Lee (R) and John Curtis (R), would transfer roughly 24 acres of the Dixie National Forest to a small Utah town with an ambitious plan for growth. “Brian Head is poised to become the next great Western ski town,” Senator Curtis said in news release last spring. “This bill gives local officials the tools they need—free from federal red tape—to meet their community’s growing needs.”
On paper, the bill is narrow (it weighs in at just 274 words), technical, and local—the kind of housekeeping legislation that might typically move quietly through Congress. Supporters describe the proposal as pragmatic. Brian Head (population: 151), they argue, needs land to support basic municipal services as it grows. Land transfers aren’t that uncommon, either. The Bureau of Land Management disposes of a few thousand to tens of thousands of acres every year. This parcel is much smaller than that, isolated, and of limited federal management value. From this perspective, continued federal ownership of the land surrounding Brian Head is inefficient, and local control is simply common sense.
But while the amount of land in question may be small, the implications of this bill reach well beyond the boundaries of a small Utah town. Most notably, the bill directs the U.S. Forest Service to convey the land to Brian Head at no cost. That represents a radical departure from typical federal land transfers, which normally require payment, a land exchange of equal value, or, at the very least, an administrative processes that includes environmental review and public input. None of those guardrails are in place with this bill. By legislating the transfer outright, Lee and Curtis are effectively short-circuiting debate and denying compensation to American taxpayers.
A more normal land transfer would also require the parcel to be used by the town for a specific purpose, using what’s known as a “reversionary clause” to enforce the mandate. If the land isn't used for the specific purpose outlined in the transfer agreement—a town water treatment facility, say, or a parking lot—the reversionary clause would ensure ownership of the land reverts back to the federal government.
But there’s no reversionary clause in play here. The Brian Head bill doesn't even demand that the town use the gifted land for a public works project. Rather, it states that the land is “to be used by the Town for a public works facility or any other uses determined to be necessary by the Town.” As critics point out, without requiring a specific use, the town of Brian Head, which is in the midst of a massive expansion plan for its namesake ski resort, could just as soon turn around and sell the land to private developers as it could use the land for a public need.
That might sound paranoid, but in this case, the broader political context warrants the concern. Senator Mike Lee, the bill’s sponsor, has been openly hostile toward federally managed public lands throughout his career. He was also the author of the massive sell-off proposal that made public lands part of the national conversation last summer. Lee, Curtis, and other Utah lawmakers have long pushed to reduce federal land ownership, arguing that local or state control would improve management and economic opportunity. While the Brian Head bill does not explicitly advance statewide land-transfer efforts, it aligns with a philosophy that views federal land ownership as negotiable rather than foundational.
“It is only 20 acres, but this is really about the precedent,” says Anneka Williams, policy director for the Winter Wildlands Alliance, a conservation group that opposes the bill. “Where is the compensation for the land giveaway for American taxpayers? This feels like a continuation of Mike Lee’s larger anti-public lands agenda.”
Indeed, this is exactly how precedent gets set—not with massive sell-offs, but with small, seemingly reasonable exceptions that slowly redefine what’s acceptable. Once transferred, the Brian Head land would no longer be subject to federal environmental protections or public access requirements. National forests are managed under a multiple-use mandate that balances development, conservation, recreation, and watershed protection. Removing parcels from that system—especially without compensation—raises questions about whether the federal estate is being incrementally diminished through legislative carve-outs.
History also suggests that small land deals can have cumulative effects. Over time, dozens of minor conveyances can reshape landscapes, fragment habitat, and reduce public access. If Congress can give away national forest land to one town for free, what stops similar requests from multiplying—particularly in fast-growing Western communities where development pressure on public lands is already intense?
For now, the Brian Head bill remains a niche issue, largely unnoticed outside public-lands circles. But it’s also a test case: a measure of how willing Congress is to relax the norms governing public land disposal, and how much scrutiny such decisions will face.